


Attached

by CosmicCthulhu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Healer Hermione Granger, Older Draco Malfoy, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCthulhu/pseuds/CosmicCthulhu
Summary: Hermione is a healer hired to assist a war veteran afflicted by a blood curse.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	Attached

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fanfiction! 
> 
> English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.
> 
> I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Hermione hummed a quiet tune, as she carefully packed her belongings in the bag she was taking with her to Wiltshire. She eyed her half-kneazle, Crookshanks, as he sat lazily on top of the letter that had prompted her packing: a quick draft from her friend, Albus Dumbledore, that congratulated the brunette on finishing her studies as a healer. In the letter, she was also invited to accept a job in a small village, taking care of a war veteran, injured by an untreatable blood curse.

At first, the young woman thought about declining. She had decided to become a healer to work at St. Mungos to help as many ailed people as she could. To research and learn and maybe publish a book or two about diseases and how to treat them. 

However, as time passed and as she read and reread the letter, she decided that perhaps to start with a relatively simple job with an incredibly generous salary wasn’t a bad idea at all. Not to mention, a poor old man was afflicted with a blood curse, and from the tone of the letter, he’d soon pass away in a lonely mansion, with no friends or family to offer him comfort. Ever the bleeding heart, Hermione determined that it was best to accept the job, make the life of an old man a little better, and only then seek out better opportunities in bigger hospitals.

So she stuffed the letter in her pocket and guided Crookshanks into the pet carrier (much to his chagrin) and grabbed the portkey that was going to take her to the village in Wiltshire. 

When she arrived, a bit more disheveled than what she liked, she looked around, and was approached by a taut black haired man, wearing thick black robes. 

“Hermione Granger?” He grunted, and the girl confirmed. “My name is Severus Snape. Come with me, I’ll show you the way to the Malfoy Manor.”

“Aren’t we apparating?”

“I advise against it. The crack of apparition is stressing for the Lord Malfoy. It reminds him of the war.” Snape said, with a scorn, and Hermione decided to not dwell on it.

“It’s a beautiful village.” She tried to lighten the mood. As she glanced at the lively people in the marketplace. The man beside her remained unamused. 

She wanted to ask about Lord Malfoy, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with such a cold and uninviting companion. Supposedly, Snape was one of Dumbledore’s friends, but she couldn’t fathom the two men ever interacting in a friendly fashion.

When they passed a series of houses in the village, an old lady appeared and watched with a strange amusement the pair walking towards the mansion at the top of the hills. “Is this the new nurse, Snape dear?” the woman shouted with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am” Hermione shouted back, before the wizard could chase the old woman away with his scowls.

“Oh darling! You have no idea what you got yourself into!” Another woman, a neighbor, Hermione supposed, joined the conversation. “Lord Malfoy is a vile man!”

This piqued Hermione’s interest, she stopped walking for a bit, to listen to what else the two old gossips would say. 

“He’s just unbearable! You’re not the first nurse to make the trek up to the manor, and you certainly won't be the last!” One of them said.

“I heard the last two healers were chased away by him with a series of hexes and curses! It’s impossible to appease him!” The other insisted.

Hermione glanced at the black haired man beside her, as if expecting him to deny the rumors, but he merely nodded and continued his way up the road. “Are you having second thoughts?” He asked, and Hermione huffed and lifted her chin. 

“Not at all. If anything, I’ve always liked a good challenge.” 

\-----

Finally arriving at the Manor, the brown-eyed girl gasped at the size and opulence of the residence. She followed Snape to one of the gardens and there she saw her new employer sitting at the edge of a fountain, his back turned to the arriving pair. She heard Snape calling out his name, and the man turned, as they both approached. 

Hermione was surprised by the sight: She expected a frail senile man, broken by a war he had served a couple of years back, and dying by a blood curse struck at him. She certainly expected more wrinkles and more balding. And maybe even an eyepatch or pegleg to symbolise his status as a war veteran (though she knew that thought was ridiculous). 

Instead, there sat a young man, definitely older than her, considering he had served the Crown, but still young enough to be considered attractive. She estimated he must have been in his late 20’s or early 30’s. He had stood up from the edge of the fountain, and she held her breath as she noticed how he towered over her. His broad shoulders also denoted how strong he probably was, even if he needed an elegant walnut cane to help him stand upright. 

She was so enthralled by his pale blond hair and steely grey eyes, that she almost missed her cue to introduce herself. But she soon realized that both men were looking at her, with raised eyebrows and confused scowls on their faces.

“Ah!” She choked, suddenly self conscious about her simple cotton dress, clearly contrasting with the fancy linen robes he was wearing. “My name is Hermione Granger, sir! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Draco Malfoy looked slightly amused by the awkward young woman standing before him. He sighed in a tired, low voice that sent chills down her spine. “One more, Severus? Can’t a man just die in peace?”

Hermione was surprised by his resentment and worried for his mental health, but Snape looked unimpressed, and proceeded to explain to the new nurse the ins and outs of the Manor, as well as her duties as the caretaker for the Malfoy scion. Malfoy himself looked bored and uninterested in meeting his new employee, if Hermione were to guess, Snape had some sort of agreement with him to ensure he would at least pretend he cared about his deadly condition. 

Regardless of his inner turmoil, Hermione was determined to provide a good service for the man, and she wouldn’t back down from it, even if he was indeed a difficult person to deal with.

\-----

Few days have passed at the Manor, and very little has happened between Hermione and her new employer. 

She would wake up early in the morning and eat her breakfast alone, silently watching the early birds venturing outside their nests. She would then rush into Malfoy’s bedroom to examine his wounds and alleviate the effects of the curse, quickly running away as soon as she could to stop herself from yelling back at her boss. For lunch, she’d usually disappear for a few minutes down to the village, with her cat in tow, to try out some of the restaurants and pubs and meet her new neighbors. She would then return (always by foot or by a friendly carriage, considering her employer’s aversion to the sound of apparition) to meet Malfoy again in his room, to administer the pain relieving potions, healing salves for his bleeding and scabbing scars and give him a dose of dreamless sleep potion, they would then eat dinner together (although in a terse and oppressive silence) and finally they would retire themselves back into their respective rooms to sleep. 

The Manor, despite its massive size, was well kept by three tiny house elves (much to the discomfort of the muggle-born witch). Despite her efforts to strike up a conversation, they all seemed to keep it to themselves, cooking, cleaning and fixing things around the estate. 

Every Tuesdays and Thursdays a young red haired man by the name of Ronald Weasley showed up at the property to deliver packages, groceries, and to groom the stallions and mares of the Malfoy estate. Hermione and Ron had developed a fast friendship, and he always seemed keen to stop and chat with the young nurse, specially to ask her if she’s been treated well by the blonde man.

“He doesn’t talk much.” Hermione pondered. “He whines a lot, I’ve noticed. And he’s yet to thank me for the services, but so far, no hexes.”

“Ah, that’s a relief.” Ron laughed. “You tell me if the git ever misbehaves, ‘Mione. I’ll be sure to kill him before the curse ever gets the chance to!”

This time, it was her turn to laugh at the jest, lightly batting the man’s arm. “Who knows? I still think I can befriend him.”

Draco Malfoy, however, was far from being friendly with her. The man was always scornful and sarcastic. He often denied her offers to help for the most part, as he insisted he didn’t need to be fussed over. He only ever seemed to acknowledge the witch when he was in desperate need of his pain relieving potions. More often than not Hermione wondered if his combative nature stemmed from her blood status, but by talking to Ron, it seemed the blonde wizard was just naturally bitter.

His wounds and curse were also difficult to deal with. Despite the collected façade the wizard tried to maintain, Hermione knew very well that he was slowly dying, and suffering a great deal of pain while at it. 

Two years ago, he had been hit by a blood curse in the battlefield, rumored to slowly consume the victim until their hearts gave out. There isn't a definite prognosis regarding his specific curse, it oftens depends on the person afflicted, but most people perish after 8 or 10 years of misery. Furthermore, in his time of service he had been with a number of other curses, hexes and even a stray bullet, neither of which seemed to heal properly because of the interference of the curse.

Everytime she removed his shirt to dress his wounds, she would wince and look at the ghastly scars that marred his chest. (And completely ignore the part of her brain that suggests he will look good when everything heals up as it should. She was a professional, God damnit!)

There were a few times she had a brief conversation with Lord Malfoy, but neither had been particularly pleasant.

Once, the wizard watched the petite witch return from the village, accompanied by two young men. The one with the red hair he could recognize as Ron, the farm boy that often helped around the estate, and the other, wearing round spectacles, was presumably a mutual friend

When Hermione was confronted by her boss about ignoring her duties to loiter around the fields with untrustworthy company, she felt the need to defend her friends and her honor. 

“Must you always assume the worst of people, Mister Malfoy?” She huffed.

“I wouldn’t need to assume anything if you just did your job properly, Miss Granger.” He responded, straightening his back to properly tower over her.

“I do my job properly!” She lifted her chin, unfazed. “And you should know that Ron and Harry are not untrustworthy! One of them even works for you, for heaven’s sake!”

“Being my employee offers no basis of character! Take yourself for example, had I not been under duress, I wouldn't be caught dead hiring such an abrasive little imp such as yourself!”

Hermione didn’t waste her time thinking of a retort. She simply stormed off back into her room, and when the time came for his injections, she may or may not have been a little more forceful than required. 

On another occasion, Hermione was working on her morning ablutions when she heard a loud crash echoing in one of the rooms down the hall. She rushed to Malfoy's room to find him sprawled on the floor, with a large tray of glassware shattered by his side, digging into his exposed chest. “Mister Malfoy!” She exclaimed, and quickly made her way to assist the man that was grumbling under his breath something about annoying mother hens. 

The brunette bandaged his chest and properly cleaned his fresh (and old) wounds, she also noticed the older wizard had a slight fever and his constitution was paler than usual. Hermione asked him how he had fallen, and he begrudgingly admitted he had tried to lift a heavy tray back into the kitchen, but a sudden wave of vertigo and a sharp pain on his hips had thrown him off balance.

“Why didn’t you call for Blinky or the other elves to return the tray instead?!” Hermione asked, aggravated. “Hell, you could have asked for me, and I’d gladly help you carry the tray back!”

“I don’t need to be treated as an invalid, miss Granger.” He snarled, with an angry scowl.

She ignored his comments, as she pulled her wand to make some diagnostic spells and determine if he had any lasting damages from the fall, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was still rotting from inside, but that was from the effects of the curse, which seemed to progress relentlessly. Faster than what she expected for a man of his age. Something in her eyes must have given away how worried she was for his condition, because the wizard felt the need to comment.

“Don’t get attached to me now, Granger.” He stated, his cold silver eyes glaring coldy into her warm chocolate-colored ones. “You know I won’t be alive for much longer.”

“Has anyone ever told you how dramatic you are?” Hermione stated back, and his frown deepened. “Stop trying to wait for your untimely death and listen to your caretaker for once in your life.”

“I’ve followed plenty of my caretakers orders in my life, brat.” He stumbled back into his bed, and Hermione continued to fuss over his old wounds, but soon she was chased away by a barking order. “Get out of my room now, you’ve done enough.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms in an indignant huff. “Just pull your head out of your arse once in a while and remember that you pay me to help you!” 

Another time, two young ladies had showed up at his door during dinner, expecting to be invited in. Hermione noticed that although unwilling, he had allowed the blonde witches to saunter into the dining room. They introduced themselves to Hermione as the Greengrass sisters (though the older one was a Nott by marriage) and started to babble with Malfoy about his need for an heir and the golden opportunity to tie himself into a marriage of one of the purest houses in England, as Astoria had recently come of age and could be properly courted now. After little over an hour of conversation he managed to chase them away with a couple of passive aggressive comments about the gold digging tendencies the pureblood families seemed to obsess over.

When the sisters left, and only the nurse and the infirm remained, they snickered together for a second, and discussed the vapid traditions of high society for the need of marriage and children.

“Aren’t you in your early 20’s, miss Granger?” He asked, but his usual venom was missing. 

“I am. What of it?”

“Aren’t you a little old to be unmarried?”

And she was. Not for lack of trying on her parents part, but it was simply too difficult to find a proper suitor to a poor muggle born witch. Not that she particularly minded, either. She was glad to have the opportunity to study and concentrate on her career instead of marrying early and becoming a quiet housewife. Still, the comment smarted her ego.

“Aren’t you a little too young to be dying?” She said in return, expecting him to frown and taunt her as he usually did. Instead, he barked a laugh.

“Fair enough.” He said simply, with an aura more subdued. They returned to their bedrooms soon after, their almost civil conversation forgotten.

\-----

One day, a little over three months of her new job, the nurse desperately followed Crookshanks as he ran around, exploring the estate and intruding upon a side of the Manor she had never been before. She was afraid the half-kneazle might end up upsetting her employer and she decided to just catch the animal before he got hurt or destroyed a priceless heirloom. Crookshanks, however, seemed to be on a mission.

The witch saw her animal take a sharp turn to the left, and she followed, picking up the pace. When she turned, and looked up, she let out a gasp, as she took on the sight of tall double doors, ornate with golden details, and partially open. Her whiskey-colored eyes noticed shadows dancing from inside the room, and she supposed that her familiar had hidden himself in there.

When she entered the room, her mouth fell agape and her eyes widened. Crookshanks seemed to puff up in pride of finding this gift his owner would certainly appreciate.

It was a library.

So massive it could easily rival that of Hogwarts. Alexandria, even. There were rows upon rows of books, proudly displayed on mahogany shelves. Stairs that lead to the upper floors promised Hermione that the book collection was even bigger than what she was currently looking at. 

But there was something wrong with that place.

The witch approached the shelves, the sound of her boots echoing in the empty halls of the library. There, she saw a thick layer of dust covering the precious books, revealing the neglect of the room. “Outrageous” she muttered quietly. When she glanced around, she noticed books and parchment littered the floor, as if they had been thrown in a fit of rage a long time ago, considering the fact that they were also covered in dust. 

Inspecting the books closer, she frowned. There seemed to be no order or thought put into the organization and display of the books. There were academic titles next to fiction stories, next to cookbooks and personal journals. Some were newer editions, and others were so ancient that they were falling apart. Some books were in english, others were french, russian and arabic, even mermish, if her suspicions were right (though she had no idea how an aquatic creature could write or read on paper). 

It was chaotic! It was unacceptable! Hermione quickly summoned a hair tie to fashion her wild curls into a bun, rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and took upon herself to reorganize the massive library. “This will take me months, probably. Perhaps years, considering there are multiple floors” she thought. “But if not now, then when?” 

She spent hours holled up in the room, separating the titles by subject, year and author, barely realizing that she had not only skipped lunch, but also forgotten her appointment with the Lord of the Manor. A knock on the door called for her attention, and when she turned, she saw one of the house elves glaring at her with a slight tremble on her hands. 

“Master has been waiting for hours!”. The creature barked.

“Oh!” Hermione blinked in surprise, reaching for her watch and choking a gasp when she noticed it was evening already. “I’m sorry, Blinky, I lost track of the time!”

“It’s not me you should be asking for forgiveness, missus.” Blinky said with a frown, as she darted into the other side of the building, probably to make dinner.

When the muggleborn found her way back into Malfoy’s room, she could see the tall man was furious. "I'm not paying you to wander around my house and look at my books all day!" Malfoy yelled, looking paler than usual. Hermione suspected he was in pain by the way he grimaced.

She muttered a weak apology and he grunted, still very much displeased. She reached for the pain relieving vial, but as she tried to administer the potions, he knocked it out of her hands like a petulant child. “Stop looking at me like I’m a kicked dog! I don’t need your pity, I just need you to do your job”.

The witch felt her hair puff up in anger. Brown eyes glaring directly at his silver ones. "And I don’t need to be yelled at! I'm not scared of healthy men, much less of sickly ones!” She shouted back, unafraid of the towering man before her. “I’m sorry for getting distracted today, but I don’t deserve to be yelled and mocked, Malfoy! I have half a mind to pack up my things and go!"

At this admission, the wizard seemed to deflate. His mercurial eyes sunken, and seemingly ashamed. He limped to the armchair in his room, and quietly rolled up his sleeve, asking with a grunt for the pain relieving potion. The witch sighed, sagging as well, regretting her outburst at the sick older man. 

She picked the vial from the floor, and approached him. This time he put up no fight, as he let her inject him with the blue viscous liquid. His furrowed brow, terse with pain, seemed to soften, as the potion acted quickly. “I just don’t know why I should bother.” He spoke so quietly, the brunette thought she had imagined.

"I'm dying, Granger.” He continued, this time louder. “I’ve never even truly lived at all. My father forced me to join the army at 16, and after almost 13 years of service, I’m cursed and now I won’t live past my 30’s."

The girl was unsure what to say, as this was the first time she saw the wizard so vulnerable. For the most part, he seems aloof with his condition, but now he looked desperate and contrite. Hermione realized she knew very little about the man she was working for.

"Will you be there? At my funeral?" Malfoy asked with a sad smile.. "I don't think many people will." The witch swallowed a lump forming in her throat. She knew Malfoy disliked being pitied, but at that moment he seemed so much younger than usual. 

“Stop being dramatic.” She choked out, and he looked up in surprise. “You won’t die, Malfoy. Not now, at least. And not anytime soon.” The man snorted an unbelievable laugh, but she was undeterred. Her eyes lightened up with a determined fire.

“Let me use your library to research your curse.” She continued. “I’m sure your collection has valuable information! Dumbledore insisted I took care of you, and now I can see why!” 

“There are no books in that library that will help you.” He sighed. “All they say is that my condition is untreatable and lethal. It’s hopeless.”

“Then you have nothing to lose!” She insisted. 

Malfoy grumbled, still dismayed by the stubborn woman. Watching the way the younger witch’s eyes seemed to glow with the prospect of a challenge, he knew he didn’t really have a reason to deny her wishes. 

“Well, fine.” He barked, and stripped his shirt to let the woman apply the healing salves on his scars. “You can research as much as you like, as long as you don’t forget your appointments with me.” 

“Thank you!” She giggled and jumped with pure happiness, which was undeniably endearing. “I have to tell you, though, your library is atrociously messy.”

\-----

In the next few weeks their relationship had improved considerably. Hermione, now with a constant fiery passion in her eyes, could always be located in the vast library, either selecting new tomes relevant to her research, writing theories on the parchments stored in her desk, or organizing the books, whilst quietly muttering to herself ideas and concepts that might help or cure Malfoy’s condition. 

She would wake up early in the morning and try to help the elves with breakfast (despite their insistence that they could work very well alone) and then she’d join Malfoy at the table, and usually discuss books and authors or just harmless gossip about the villagers from the nearby town. She would then examine and dress his wounds and quickly scurry back into the library to continue her work, usually eating her lunch at the recluse alcoves of her favorite room. She then would return to the kitchen to join Malfoy for dinner, and she’d follow him to his room to administer pain relieving potions, healing salves on his scars and give him a dose of dreamless sleep potion. They would talk about her day for the most part, and whatever new discoveries of blood curses she had made. 

On the days she was particularly inspired, she would often stay up until late in the library to study and write down her notes on loose parchment. Her friends noticed the sudden change in behaviour of their bushy-haired witch, but after asking if she was alright and not over working, the muggleborn merely laughed. “I haven’t had this much fun in years” She admitted. 

Hermione wasn’t sure what Malfoy usually spent his time for the most part of his day, but she wasn’t too preoccupied with him. He was still distant, but no longer held the cold and standoffish gaze he used to. He seemed more at ease with the witch, now that they had come to a tentative truce. 

\-----

In less than a month of working in her research, the brunette burst into Malfoy’s room, with a proud smile on her face. He raised a curious eyebrow at her, but said nothing. 

“You’re a potions master, correct?” She asked, with her hands still behind her back. He smiled slightly.

“Indeed I am. I used to brew potions during the war. Also brewed poisons, made bombs and ammunition”

“Awesome! We don’t need bombs for now, just the potions will do” She joked, and he chuckled as he watched the young woman hand him a piece of parchment previously concealed in her back. He recognized her scrawly handwriting and as he looked closer, he realized that was a recipe of some sorts. “I want you to brew this for me! It’s a experimental potion.”

“Seems simple enough” He stated,and she huffed as if offended by his cockyness. “I can work on it right now, if you want.”

“Oh!” She looked self conscious now, fiddling with the hem of her blouse. “Didn’t even think to ask if you were busy.”

He chuckled, and slowly guided her through one of the many rooms in the manor. Looking around, Hermione realized she was in a potions lab. “I was going to the lab anyway. It’s a hobby of mine.”

Malfoy then put on his robes and started working cleaning his station and filling his cauldron with water. Not wanting to stand idle, Hermione decided to help her boss, by getting and preparing the necessary ingredients. “Is this where you spend most of your days?” she asked, after some time working in silence. 

“Not always.” He answered and after a pregnant pause, he continued. “I mostly work in my office, managing the family business, but some afternoons I come here to brew medicinal potions. I always donate them to the local hospital and St. Mungos.”

Hermione smiled. She was happy to finally learn more about the man she was working for, and was even more pleased to learn that he wasn’t as bitter with her as he once was. They started to banter and jest about different things. Finally the experimental potion seemed to turn a pearly white color, the color Hermione desired. “Ah, it’s done.” Malfoy stated, as he carefully siphoned the potion into a glass vial. “Now what?”

“Well, now… You drink it and we see if it... works?” She said with an awkward smile. 

“Absolutely not.” He deadpanned.

“Ok, I didn’t think this through” She muttered. “But the potion should be safe! Even if it doesn't work, you shouldn’t get any lasting damming effects from it.”

“Yeah, I’m not willing to gamble.” He barked. “Tomorrow we get some rats. Inflict them with the same blood curse, and test the potion on them. If it works, I’ll consider drinking it.”

Hermione grumbled, horrified that Malfoy was willing to use live test subjects, but she couldn’t really argue with his logic. They had no idea if the potion would actually work, and it could be dangerous to blindly drink anything without a clear idea of what might happen.

By the next morning, they had half a dozen carriers full of albino rats. Crookshanks eyed curiously the rodents, but was chased away by his owner when he seemed a little too interested in the recently bought animals. Hermione watched as she settled the new animals in their newly set up bioterium, smiling slightly when she watched a couple of rats playing with each other.

“Just don’t grow attached.” Malfoy glared at the girl, and she muttered that he didn’t need to worry about that.

In the afternoon, a couple of rats had been tested, and they confirmed that the potion was useless (although not particularly harmful). The pureblood had a smug ‘told you so’ smirk all day, as he insisted on accompanying the muggleborn to the library, to grasp what branch of research she was delving on. 

After that, he started to help her with the experiments and theories. They worked closely together, making several breakthroughs of different methods of alleviating and countering blood curses and other bloodborne diseases. 

Their friendship grew and flourished as they fell in a strong partnership. After much insistence on Hermione's part, Draco started to go out and wander through the nearby villages with her, partaking in festivals and local fairs. He reconnected with some old friends of his Hogwarts years, Blaise and Theo (which seemed surprised and thrilled to see that Draco was indeed very much alive) and started to look more hopeful towards his future.

In the following months, it was rare to see the blonde and the brunette apart, much to the amusement of the village’s old women, as they became the most entertaining subject to gossip about around town, not that they particularly minded the rumors, considering they were mostly harmless.

\-----

On the dawn of Hermione’s 24th birthday, their eyes remained glued on the old sizzling cauldron. After months and months of failed potions, ruined charms and discarded theories (and one incident of blowing up an empty room of the Manor, just for the sake of utilizing Draco’s arsonist skills), they finally seemed to make the most important breakthrough on the blonde’s blood curse. 

They carefully filled the vials with the rosy colored liquid, and with a terse silence, and marched to the bioterium to select their (hopefully) last two test subjects. They picked the two rats and after inflicting the curse on both of them, they tested their potion. 

“Now for the detection charm…” Draco murmured, and Hermione lifted her wand to cast the charm they had developed that allowed them to see if the curse still afflicted the rats. The light turned blue, and Hermione let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It had worked. Making a few more diagnostic spells, they also determined that the potion had no serious adverse effects.

They filled another vial, this time with the proper quantities to give it to a fully grown man. He gulped it down with a grimace, irked by the bitter taste of the liquid.

After some minutes, Draco started to feel more lively. A weight in his chest had lifted, and the constant aches and soreness he usually felt on his hips and scars had dulled to a meager throb. He didn’t even need the detection charm to know he was free of the curse, but he asked Hermione to confirm it anyway. He noticed her hands were trembling, and he shot her a comforting smile. With a slight tremble in her voice, and eyes gleaming with a hopeful prayer, she muttered the incantation of the detection charm.

The light was blue. He was cured. 

The witch and the wizard stayed silent for a moment, watching the blue light flicker in an agonizing dance, until it died down by the end of the incantation. They both looked up, sighing together a breath of relief.

“That’s it? I’m not a dying man anymore?” He breathed out, feeling giddy and euphoric. 

“No, Draco.” Hermione laughed. “You’re... healthy as a horse now.” She quickly scribbled her findings in the parchment paper, to properly document it later, and Draco could see she was still shaking of excitement.

"It seems so simple... this can’t be right." he insisted, fiddling with the now empty vial.

"Was it simple? Took us a year and a half and countless trial and error."

"I just..." 

Draco stalled. He just admired the petite stubborn witch before him. She was undeniably pretty and undoubtedly smart. She had figured out a cure for a rare and lethal blood curse in a ridiculous short amount of time. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and tucking a stray curl of hair that had escaped her careful french braid. 

“You’ll just have to find something else to be grouchy about.” She quipped and smiled, and he couldn’t resist anymore, he hugged her, burying his nose in her hair, playfully undoing her braid and letting her curls fall on her back. Hermione was surprised that the stoic and distant man was so openly hugging her, but who could blame him? He was finally free from his imminent death and she was glad to be a witness of such a moment. 

When they parted, her eyes had softened and her playful smirk had turned into a sincere smile.

“Really, Draco. You’re free from the curse.” At that moment the pureblood had decided that his favorite sound in the world was her voice. “You don’t need potions or experimental medicines, nor insufferable know-it-all nurses anymore.” She said, with a hint of sadness, and he frowned.

“Oh…” He started, now realizing that soon Hermione was going to leave. “Right.”

They both fell into an awkward silence. The only sounds of the room were occasional squeaks the cured lab rats let out, indifferent to the conundrum that now muddled the mind of the two humans. 

“No need for lab rats either.” Hermione supplied, looking at the two albino rodents. “I guess we’ll have to rehome these two and the others at the bioterium.”

“I think I’ll keep them. As pets.” Draco choked out. And Hermione lifted an eyebrow “I grew attached to them, after all we’ve been through.”

Silence fell between them again. ‘Say something, you idiot’ Hermione’s mind begged, but she didn’t know what to say. “So did I…” she muttered, almost inaudibly. Their eyes met once again. 

“There’s still..” Draco started, but he was interrupted at the same time by the witch. “You know…” They stopped at the same time, and laughed at how ridiculous they both felt at the moment. The brunette motioned to let the blond speak first.

“There’s still more you could do around here. I mean, the contract states that you’re to be my healer until the day of my demise.” He looked nervous, averting his gaze to the open window by her side. He watched as a bluebird happily hopped around the tree branches. “There’s still the local hospital, of course, they could always benefit from such a distinctive healer such as yourself... I know they aren’t nearly as big as St. Mungos, and I can see how ambitious you are. The world deserves to know of brilliance, Hermione and I think you’ll be amazing no matter where you end up. I mean, with the amount of work you’ve done this past year and a half, you could publish the most comprehensive book about blood curses! You can save a lot of lives with how much you’ve accomplished already.” He was rambling now, but couldn’t quite stop his mouth from praising the muggleborn. 

The blonde man was sure he could still talk for hours, but thankfully, his companion managed to stop his disjointed lecture. 

“Would you like me to stay some time longer?” She asked, with her hands fiddling the hem of her pinafore. “As a personal healer, you mean.”

“Well, yes. If you wish for it, of course. And again, the local hospital is always in need of competent workers such as yourself.”

“We do work quite well together, don’t you think?” She managed to give him a cheeky smile. “Besides, your library is still a chaotic mess! Someone needs to fix that issue.”

Draco laughed, endeared by the witch. And as he dipped his head down to meet her mouth in a quick, but passionate kiss, he couldn’t stop but agree with her. They truly did work well together. 

And with a smile, he could safely admit that he had grown attached to her as well.


End file.
